Not where dreams are made
by Lucytheloo
Summary: Short drabble of what may have happened to Amy after she was sent back in time in New York. Post TATM. Warning: Angst! First fic, may be continued, all reviews and rates appreciated!


Amy had given up.

Not in the way you give up at a game, or give up at trying complete an impossible task like beating the Doctor at chess, no. Amy had given up fighting.

Since she'd been zapped back in time by the angel, she had grown steadily more unstable. When she and Rory had been travelling with the Doctor, she's been used to taking antidepressants.

She'd started to take the pills when the Doctor had left her properly, after their adventure in the hotel with the Minotaur. Her moods had become unbearable and she hadn't been able to feel anything for the longest period, so Rory had advised her to go to see her GP. They'd announced her as depressed, and so the prescriptions had started.

Amy had kidded herself at first, denying she had felt any different to normal, but when it was pointed out that she'd spend a day in her pyjamas with a cold cup of tea in her hand and feel like she'd accomplished something that day, she finally agreed to start the medication.

The pills had worked well and she was able to slowly start to make changes in her life, taking walks and meeting up with old, previously forgotten friends. She'd even been able to look for a job.

When the Doctor had returned, Amy had left her pills at home. After all, her Raggedy Man was back, so why should she need help to be happy?

It was only two days after she'd stopped taking her medication when she felt herself crashing, and of course her boys noticed. The Doctor had worked it out soon enough, and had made a special trip when she'd been asleep to get her pills. Amy knew this because the next morning they were on her bedside table with a little sticky note stuck on the box, reading 'Pond, it's okay to not be okay X'.

She'd been embarrassed at first, but after a lengthy conversation about mental health at her Raggedy Man's request, Amy had felt normal. She started her course of pills again, and became her usual happy and fiery self.

But now that she was stuck in the past and her medication hadn't even been invented, she had crashed once more. Amy had tried to cope with the loss of her best friend and the life she'd grown to love, but combined with the withdrawal symptoms of suddenly not taking medication, it had quickly taken its toll.

She felt constantly drained of energy and struggled to get out of bed in the mornings, the dark bags ever present under her eyes showing that she didn't sleep. Amy had argued with Rory, yelled at him and blamed him for the two of them being stuck in America, but always ended up sobbing and falling into his arms.

Recently, this had not been the case. She'd stopped crying, stopped shouting and stopped.. Well, living. That was what it felt like, anyway. Amy Pond, the once kiss-o-gram with attitude from Leadworth, simply didn't have the energy to fight anymore. She agreed to whatever her husband asked with an absentminded nod, never questioning his decisions or showing the slightest bit of interest, and Amy could tell it was starting to take its toll.

Rory had started to spend more time at work, reasoning that with his now advanced medical knowledge, the other doctors needed all the help they could get. He sometimes used to excuse of meeting up with friends, though it fell on deaf ears.

Amy had heard him stumble through the door in the early hours of the morning on a few occasions, the smell of another woman's perfume burning in her lungs like wildfire. She saw the red lipstick marks on Rory's collar and cheeks, though said nothing.

As the weeks went by, her husband seemed to become less and less bothered with hiding his relationship with this mystery woman, his excuses becoming less inventive and then stopping altogether. She wondered why he still lived with her, and the thought that it was out of pity settled in the bottom of her stomach like acid, eating away slowly at her insides.

She wasn't surprised when he finally broke the news that he was moving out and wanted a divorce. Who was she to hold him back if he'd found a way to be happy? Amy was long past feeling bitter towards Rory for essentially pulling her back in time with him. As he'd said many times before, he never asked her to and he never forced her to.

What she was surprised at was the feeling of betrayal that struck her at odd moments, sometimes up to three times a day and sometimes as infrequently as once a week. But it wasn't towards Rory. It was towards the Doctor. Why hadn't he ripped time apart to come and get her? Why hadn't he left her messages to find? He could send her mail at least! But then she'd remember that her Raggedy Man had to think of everyone else in the world and that he'd probably moved on and forgotten all about her by now.

And that was the only thought that could still make Amy feel, so she clung to it.

**A/N This is my first fic, so thanks for reading! All rates and reviews are wanted and appreciated. If this turns out well, I may write more **


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